


Paying My Dues

by SpankedbySpike



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-26
Updated: 2009-10-26
Packaged: 2017-10-20 06:36:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpankedbySpike/pseuds/SpankedbySpike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new story exploring another side of John, one he never would entered in his journal by respect for his sons... It is about the first time John met Kathy Milligan (Adam's mom) and the first time he dealt with the Ghoul and herlack of preparation...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paying My Dues

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, this one was a personal challenge in which Atalantj gave me amazing support and encouragment for the first story I posted at SPN_Spankings. Thank you!

Title: Paying my Dues (October 2009)

Author: Spanked by Spike

Characters: John Winchester/Adam’s mom (as per John first meeting with her, years before he knew he fathered Adam) or simply OFC if you prefer

Scenario: Punishment Spanking of an adult woman by John Winchester - 2271 words

Implement: Hand

Warning: PG-15 to NC17, sexual content

Disclaimer: I am just playing in Kripke sandbox, no profit is made...

Thanks to Angelus2hot, Sarah and Atalantaj for the wonderful ideas, suggestions, discussions, beta work and patience. This wouldn't have seen the light of day without you, you rock!

 

 

The apartment was small but the rooms felt airy, the sun shined brightly through the large windows most days and at night the vista on the illuminated bridge downtown makes for your own starry night delight. The small office below was always quiet even during business hours but now, in the evening, the silence was almost eerie. John had no regrets, he told her what he planned and just enjoyed his beer while her mind wrapped around the concept. The beer was cold, perfect for quenching the thirst of a man resting from a long day of work. With his kids at Bobby’s place, he worked non-stop on this hunt. He’d spent the middle of the nights stalking and the long mornings researching. It all paid off, the ghoul was no more and with the satisfaction of a job well done he had accepted her invitation to stay for the rest of the week.

It had been a long time coming. He hadn’t been with a woman for a long time, his life committed to the Hunt, to raising and training his children, to finding and killing the abomination that took his Mary. And this wasn’t even a quick lay with someone that was just helping take the edge off. No Sir, she was there from day one, enticing him with the promise of good home-cooking, warm baths and tumultuous romps, the likes he hasn’t seen in ages. How could he resist? Why would he?

The times in her bed were fun, the ones in the shower, by the coffee table and in his car too. He really had acted like a horny teenager or a soldier on leave; which, in a way, he was. Still he is a responsible man, not having to oversee the boys, protect himself from the demons he fought did not, in any way, change his nature. She should have been more careful. Finding the ghoul yards away from her, stalking her had pushed his buttons and precipitated its demise; her recklessness set in motion her punishment.

Yesterday was over though, thankfully, and she was safe, he had gotten to her in time. Today, he simply slept, let his body take what it needed. When she came back from work, he had the table set and without a pause sent her to take a shower while he finished cooking them dinner. She was enthused and he was happy. The meal went well. Now, she was keeping herself busy loading the dishwasher and probably trying to find a way out of her predicament. He sighed, there wasn’t any. It’s not like his own boys hadn’t tried before to get out of a spanking… A man can’t change who he really is and she will just have to come to terms with it. Principles and discipline make for a house in order, a life well lived, a life long lived.

“John, I can’t believe you would even contemplate this. Com’ on, I’m not a kid anymore!” she said pleadingly while seating herself on his knees.

His arm wrapped around her waist, his mouth coming to kiss her temple while his other hand pushing the beer bottle towards the middle of the table. Well here was the kind of enticement his boys definitively couldn’t provide when trying to get out of something… He chuckled, making her look up and lose herself in his eyes. She had said he had the  
best bedroom eyes ever. He wondered if that was what she was seeing now, because the steely resolve was still firmly in place, he is sure it shows in his intent look. Her small hand goes to the small button of his shirt and opened it slowly. He doesn’t mind the light brushes of her fingers on his skin, the smell of her shampooed hair grounding him in the moment. The kiss is a given, his tongue simply testing the flavor still on her lips from the simple meal they shared. She opens up with a moan and he sweeps in, reveling in her softness, her eagerness. It’s not really a passionate kiss, more one that conveys trust and care and yes, contentment. Ending the kiss, he manages to finally reply.

“Sweetheart, I’ll never mistake you for a kid, I’m just remind you of personal safety concerns, which you’ve obviously forgotten about. Let’s get to your bedroom, now.” and with a swift movement, she is on her feet with a swat on her behind, he pointed her towards the right direction, a hearty laugh followed her and somehow pushed the fear and absurdity of the situation away.

 

***

John watched her in the bedroom brushing her hair. Her reflection in the mirror showed the short blue nightgown she wore, and he absently noted the cute little bows underneath her breasts, slightly separating the full mounds. The silk reflecting the soft glow emanating from the night table light fixture is an invitation to touch, and suddenly he is eager, and willing. The palm of his hand was a welcome weight on her shoulder and she leaned against him, smiling. His fingers followed the path of the brush and tangled in her locks; his gaze caught hers in the mirror, a moment passed and then with a consideration he rarely showed to those about to be punished he offered his other hand and encouraged her to follow him to the large bed.

He sat first, the flaps of his shirt completely open, his jeans tight around his toned body, his appearance just that more gruff and unyielding. She fidgeted on his side wondering what would happen next, how she would feel, how she should react, basically apprehensive, nervous and yet entrusting John with her well-being. He backed up on the bed just enough that when he pulled her across his lap she lay on the soft bed rather than looking at the carpet. He pulled one of the pillows and ordered her to hold it.

“I don’t want to see your hands covering your backside. We clear?”

“Mhmmphump” is the muffled answer.

He was satisfied with it so he gets busy elsewhere. His right hand was massaging her thighs, slowly raising the hem of the nightie, leaving goose bumps in its wake, patting the round and bare ass gradually revealed by the garment which was now nestled in the small of her back. The other hand was extended to her hair again, massaging her neck, her tense shoulders conveying both a sense of support and one of control.

“I’ve asked you to be careful. The first day we met, I told you to be vigilant. What part of that didn’t you get?”

Smack. The tap was light, a bit on the left. Nothing like she was expecting. With one hand still in her hair, he smacked her two more times with about the same strength, she stopped tensing and anticipating when the next spank would come.

Smack! A more forceful swat got a yelp from her, but her cry did nothing to stop the steady stream of spanks marring her now tingling and pinkish skin, nor the lecture.

“I’m dealing with the Supernatural everyday and you’re going about your life with less sense than a child! Falling asleep on your rocker, out in the open, after I specifically asked you not to let the night find you outside…” The thought of her being so careless riled John up again and the next slap fell very hard across both her upturned cheeks.

“Hey it hurts!” She was now eager for the lesson to end, wriggling a bit, and unwillingly making the target that much more endearing to John…

“It’s supposed to hurt honey! But let’s move on to the more substantial spanking, so you can build some meaningful memories from it.”

The large palm of John Winchester connected with a loud crack on the unprotected surface of her skin and his palm print stood out in even more contrast. A work of art, truly! He could feel her tense through the hold he still has on her hair. He slowly relaxed his fingers and massaged her scalp with sure strokes, conveying without words that he had her, and through everything she’d be safe.

“John, please… Stop… Ow, ow, ow… Wait, John...” She managed between spanks, harsh breaths and comforting touches; Lost in the feel of the whole experience.

 

His other hand resumed the spanking, regularly and forcefully, one smack at a time, one burning cheek after the other, a fire slowly burning and consuming her every coherent or independent thought. The only thing of importance now was the sharp pain, the loud sound, the gruff voice, the humiliation, the sense of shame. The tears started rolling. The hiccups and the sorry pleas a dead give away to the more subdued state of mind she finally found herself in but John still didn’t stop.

He watched her cheeks move with his firm blows, the way they’d settle in place after full wiggle. He realized with an odd sense of surprise how sensual this experience could be and how sensual it was. It wasn’t about punishment anymore but also about enjoying the encounter to its fullest.  
His cock felt full, reacting to the rocking motion of this wonderful woman taking her spanking like a pro: her hands tightening on the pillow, low moans and complaints lost in its softness, her ass coming to meet his hand without her even knowing it.

The sound made by the slaps were lulling him with their sharpness and their rhythm, the dark crimson shade coloring her bottom was now spreading to the top of her thighs as he slowly decided to lay into her sit spot. Her pants were tinged with little sobs and breathless pleas and when he heard the new pain, distress, and want in her voice, he stopped spanking. She had been punished enough. He started caressing the burning flesh, letting his finger drop between her parted legs and playing with the wetness seeping from her core. His own cock twitched with eagerness but he simply stayed unmoving, paying attention to the new hitch in her voice and to bringing her pleasure instead of punishment with his hands.

The calloused pads of his right hand were playing a new symphony on the peaking bundle of nerves, the palm slapping in rhythm on the open labia eager to be filled. His other hand left her neck to massage in its wake the side of the breast smashed on the bed, little by little accessing the engorged nipple begging for attention. Minutes of intense attention and her little body sparkled with a life of its own. Watching and feeling her come was terrific, every part of her body loose and expressing the internal ripples racking her, the light sheen of perspiration making her skin even shinier, the red ass an astonishing contrast with the paler shade of her lovely back.

She slumped forward and John let it be until his own breath calmed down, his mind able to focus again and reign over the raging hard-on he was sporting. He moved her hair aside, dropped a chaste kiss on her shoulder before whispering his next command.

“Get yourself in the corner, hands on your head, away from your butt.”

“What?” came the mumbled response.

“You heard. Stand in the corner and let me enjoy my work.” John grinned back with a chuckle.

With a groan, she slowly raised herself, worked the kink on her limbs and grudgingly went across the room to look at the wonderfully boring paint dressing her walls. With a sigh she thought back on the event that just took place. The shame of being half naked and punished by this bear of a sexy man was overwhelming, but the crashing orgasm he gave her ranked among the best she had ever had. A shiver ran through her body cooling her down and the hitch on her well chastised skin took precedence on any other contemplation.

 

She couldn’t wait to rub the sting and pain from her buttocks, but wouldn’t defy John by doing so until he authorized it. She felt bad for the risk she took unwittingly with that ghoul yesterday, the reprimand and retribution John dolled was pretty much on par, disgraceful but she definitively needed a good cry. And, now, she’d give anything to be in the warmth of his arms, resting in her bed, enjoying the safety he provided, even if it was only for a few more days.

John undressed quietly, keeping his black boxers on, and then reclined against the headboard. He wasn’t planning on wasting a lot of time having her in the corner but he wanted to make a point, like he did with the boys after punishing them, he was serious about punishment, as well as rewards, and about personal safety. He would be leaving soon, back to a life of hunting, back to his parental duties. He wondered if he had any right to spank an adult woman, and one that was mostly providing solace during an assignment? Well, what is done is done, if she didn’t call him back, he would respect her wishes and keep his distance but would always remember his stay with fondness. She was a wonderful woman.

“Come back to bed, baby.” He called sweetly to her. “You’re forgiven.” and she came. Straight into his arms, just like the boys used to, bringing a laugh rumbling through his chest, illuminating his eyes, sharing an unblemished absolution and contentment.

The End.

 

A new story exploring another side of John, one he never would enter in his journal by respect for his sons...


End file.
